


Boundaries

by TimmyJaybird



Series: 100 Themes Challenge [31]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, FtM Dick, M/M, Slade has trouble with his feelings, Slade's kids have opinions on his relationship, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-08 14:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10388934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: “There are boundaries,” Slade said, “I need space, Dick.” He reached up, pinched the bridge of his nose. “I haven’t even been gone a whole week. You’re making this something it’s not.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> The theme was "boundaries"!

Slade slung his bag over his shoulder, grunted under the weight of his gear and suit, as he rode the elevator up towards his floor. The drawback to staying in a _nice_ hotel while on a job was the change away from the property- but the prospect of sleeping on a mattress that wouldn’t stab him with springs that night, well, it outweighed hassel.

 

He stepped off the elevator, heading for this room. It was after one AM, and while it was an early night for Slade, considering it was the middle of the week, most of the hotel was long lost to sleep. He paused at his door, fished his keycard out and swiped it. The light blinked green and he heard the door click. He tucked it away, grabbing the handle and opening the door, stepping inside.

 

“Hey baby!”

 

Slade jerked back at the sudden voice, watched as across the room Dick lept off of the bed, leaving his phone there and rushing over. Before Slade could even more, his arms were around his neck, Dick leaning up and kissing his cheek as the door slammed shut behind him. Slade simply stood there, as Dick leaned back, offering up that smile that was so gorgeous it made his chest feel tight.

 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, as Dick was pulling away, turning and heading back for the bed.

 

“I thought you might want some company.” He paused at a little cart, and Slade noticed there was a bottle of unopened wine, sitting on ice.

 

He dropped his bag, reaching up to rub a hand over his face. “Grayson,” he managed, but Dick wasn’t listening.

 

“You’ve been gone a week. I might have checked in with Joey, figured out where you were going. Not that he really knew, but he asked Rose for me.” Dick reached up, rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s still not really talking to me.”

 

“Dick.”

 

“Which I guess I understand. I mean, I’m sleeping with her dad and all.” Dick shrugged a shoulder. “Anyway, I ordered a bottle of wine, thought it might be nice to not be alone tonight, and-”

 

“ _Grayson_!” Slade’s voice was loud, and Dick clamped his mouth shut tightly, staring right at him. Slade dropped his bag on the floor. “You can’t just show up like this.”

 

“Why not?” Dick sat on the edge of the bed, folding his hands in his lap. “You’re here under an alias, I hacked the system. Found your room, gave a fake name, said I was your boyfriend. No one has any idea, and you’re _done_ , aren’t you?” Slade nodded. “Then what’s the harm? We get a little night alone…”

 

“There are boundaries,” Slade said, “I need _space_ , Dick.” He reached up, pinched the bridge of his nose. “I haven’t even been gone a whole week. You’re making this something it’s not.”

 

Slade let his hand fall away, saw the little part in Dick’s mouth. For a moment, those gorgeous blue eyes were cracked- and then they were _hard_. They were solid steel and it was a wall Slade had seen plenty of times. His chest constricted. He hadn’t meant to say that last bit at least, not in the way he did.

 

Dick stood up, went to move past Slade. Slade reached out, grasped his forearm, and Dick paused, not facing him. “Shit, Dick, listen,” he started, “I didn’t _mean_ that. Just… I’m tired. Can we talk in the morning?”

 

Dick huffed, and Slade swore he saw his shoulders almost shake. “I can book a flight back to Gotham, we can talk when you come back.”

 

“No, just… in the morning.”

 

Dick was quiet for far too long. “I’ll get a room,” he mumbled, and Slade squeezed his arm.

 

“Don’t… don’t do that.” He wished Dick would just look at him. “Just stay here.” Dick glanced back, and Slade hated that he had hurt him- because god, he could still see it. He was just _tired_ , he’d wanted nothing more than to catch a few solid hours of sleep. It was routine, after a job completed, well done. Sleep it off.

 

Having the routine thrown off, well, it threw _him_.

 

Dick tugged his arm back, heading back for the bed, and Slade sighed in relief. At least he could minimize the damage done.

 

*

 

Slade lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Dick was on his side, facing away from him, all the way on the edge of the bed. It was a far cry from how they usually slept, when they were together. With Dick tucked up into his chest, or with his arms and legs tossed over Slade, snuggling into his back, clinging like a damn _octopus_.

 

The thought made Slade smile.

 

He shifted, tucking his arm up behind his head. His plan to sleep seemed out the window now. He was wide awake, felt _horrible_ for what he had said to Dick. He didn’t mean it, really. They were _something_ , he knew that. Even if he didn’t use the same terms Dick did- Dick would say boyfriend and bat his eyes like they were seventeen and going to homecoming together.

 

Slade just… couldn’t find a label that worked. _Relationship_ ? It seemed too broad, too general. It was accurate, sure, but he didn’t feel the need to go much beyond that. They fucked- they fucked _a lot_ and it was some of the best sex Slade had ever had in his life. And at first that’s all it had been, which was fine.

 

But now, months into this, and Slade swore he spent as many nights in Dick’s apartment as he did in any of his own. Hell, most of his shit was there. It was what he thought of when someone said _home_. Where he wanted to go back to. If he was honest, where he would have been going in a day or two, if Dick hadn’t shown up.

 

Dick didn’t make this into anything it wasn’t- Slade was simply cautious. Swore that after Adaline, he wouldn’t let himself get in this close to anyone. And with Dick, it simply seemed like the set-up for a disaster of epic proportions. He was an _assassin_ , a gun for hire, he killed and didn’t bat a fucking eye- and Dick had a damn _rule_ against taking the lives of the lowlifes he hunted down.

 

Not to mention the age difference. Slade could understand why his daughter wasn’t speaking with Dick, now that they were semi-public. He was somewhat glad his son was, at least. He and Dick had been friends…

 

Slade reached up with his free hand, dragged it over his face, groaned. Not the thoughts he wanted at, what, three AM now? Not at all.

 

Slade rolled onto his side, studied Dick’s form, covered by the blanket. He reached out, gently settled his hand on the curve of his waist. Dick’s breathing didn’t change in the slightest. “Little bird,” he whispered, knowing he was asleep, but god, he needed to say something. If only for his own conscious. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… everything that I said earlier.” He rubbed down towards Dick’s hip. “We’re everything you think we are. I just… don’t know how to deal with that.”

 

He squeezed, closed his eyes, breathed in deeply.

 

“You’re in a different world. You’re something _good_ , and I am far from a good man.” He wanted to pull himself closer, wanted to wrap himself around Dick. Wanted to make sure he wouldn’t leave. Instead he let the words hang in the silence of the room. With his eyes closed, he couldn’t tell how many seconds ticked by- but then Dick was moving, beneath his hand. Rolling over, and when Slade opened his good eye, Dick was staring at him, in the dark of the room.

 

“Big bad Deathstroke apologizing,” he whispered, and Slade could only _grin_.

 

“You’ve weakened me, kid.” Dick laughed at that, slid closer- and getting his arm draped over Dick felt like heaven. Dick let their legs tangle together, slid a hand up Slade’s bare chest.

 

“I take it as an honor.” He leaned in, nosed at Slade’s chin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think, I just… showed up. I could have called you or something.” Slade could feel each of his breaths. “I just missed you, you know?”

 

Slade _did_ know, because he missed Dick when he was away. He missed him at the worst times, and he buried it, let himself be extra brutal so prove he wasn’t softening. But if he was honest… “I missed you too.”

 

Dick smiled, gave a little chuckle. His mouth moved against Slade’s jaw. “Let’s sleep on it?”

 

“If I can,” Slade mumbled, rolling onto his back. He kept his arm curled around Dick, who sprawled onto his chest. Dick sighed, rested his cheek there, listening to the steady _thump_ of Slade’s heart, his hand rubbing gently over his belly.

 

“Mind racing?” he asked, and Slade nodded, rubbing Dick’s back. He felt calmer, with Dick curled up into him now. And god, to admit the power this kid had over him. His boy would be the death of him, he was sure. And he was beginning to realize he’d be okay with that, someday.

 

Dick’s fingers flexed, before his hand slid all the way down Slade’s belly, over the trail of white hair leading into his pajama pants. His hand skimmed lower, over Slade’s cock, and Slade exhaled.

 

“I can help you fall asleep…”

 

Slade glanced down, but Dick wasn’t lifting his head. Seemed too comfortable. “Little bird,” he whispered, letting himself sound affectionate. He was too tired to fight it, too happy that morning would come and Dick hopefully wouldn’t be sad. “You don’t have to do that.”

 

“I know.” Dick sucked on his lip, gave Slade’s cock and balls a gentle squeeze. “Maybe I want to.” He tossed his leg of Slade’s, continued to fondle him through his pajama pants. “You’ll sleep better.”

 

Slade chuckled, the rumble in his chest making Dick bounce a little. “Like you have to sell me on it, Dick.” Dick smiled, popped open the single button on Slade’s pajama pants. His deft fingers slipped in through the slit, found warm, bare skin, and he shivered. Slade slept in either his underwear or pants, never both- and Dick always loved that there were so few barriers between them.

 

Dick’s hand slid lower, cupped his balls, teasing them slowly. Slade’s cock twitched, the head rubbing Dick’s wrist, each movement of his fingers, his palm, well practiced. Slade’s cock was swelling fast, but god, he always got so hard so fast with Dick. Just thinking about him could leave Slade half mast no matter the situation.

 

Dick freed his cock through the slit in his pajama pants a moment later, wrapped his hand around him and stroked up. His fist was tight, exactly how Slade liked it, the movements not overly fast but bumping his glans, making his breath shudder out. “Not gonna take long,” he mumbled. The first time Dick touched him after he’d been away was always quick. And Slade had _stamina_ \- he couldn’t imagine if he was a weaker man.

 

“Doesn’t need to,” Dick offered, stayed relaxed and warm against Slade. Slade continued to rub his back, felt the lines of muscle through his tshirt. Dick sighed, his hand moving like he had been born knowing how to touch Slade. How he had learned him, in such a short time- Slade might be horrified, expect he had done the same to Dick. Learned what he liked, what he needed, because he was obsessed, because he lived for when his boy fell apart for him.

 

Slade closed his eyes, didn’t fight the little pleased groans that escaped his throat. His breathing grew heavier, his body rolling in this sweet and perfectly steady rhythm towards orgasm. His belly and balls tightened, until it was so much, until he was so damn hard in Dick’s hand- and when he came, when he spilled over his fingers and knuckles, it was with his name on his breath.

 

Dick smiled, turned his head and kissed Slade’s chest, stroking him through it- slowly, less tightly after, so as not to send Slade into a hypersensitive state. Slade squirmed a little, and only when Dick’s fist stilled completely did he open his eyes, dare to stretch across towards the nightstand, grab a tissue from the box left there. He offered it to Dick, who sat up, carefully wiped his hand- before he chucked the tissue to the floor, flopped right back down to Slade’s chest.

 

Slade couldn’t even _scold him_ for it. He felt heavy suddenly, his limbs buzzing, his core this sweet, smooth melody of exhaustion and relaxation. He was drifting before he even realized it- but managed to tighten his hold on Dick, to keep him pressed to his chest.

 

He wasn’t letting go tonight.

 

*

 

Slade woke up having barely moved, Dick still sprawled on his chest. He came to slowly, enjoyed the heat of his body against him, rubbing his hand absentmindedly along his spine. Dick hummed in his sleep, nuzzling into his chest- and that was when Slade opened his eye. He glanced down, before tipping his head back, smiling to himself.

 

He wasn’t sure what time it was. The curtains to the hotel were closed tightly, and Slade felt like he had slept for a solid year. His muscles were loose, relaxed, his body at ease. He wasn’t sure he’d slept this well after a job in a long time.

 

Very carefully, he extracted himself from Dick. The younger man gave a groan, but let Slade up, sprawled out in his space and soaked up his heat. Slade chuckled, shook his head as he crossed the room, heading for the bathroom. A quick trip there, and he was back, heading for his suitcase, where his phone was tucked away. The battery was low but still alive, and he crouched down, unlocking it and finding a number of texts.

 

He thumbed through them. The first few were from Joey.

 

_Pops did Grayson make it there in one piece?_

 

_I’ll take the hours of silence as a very gross yes._

 

He huffed, thumbs sliding along his phone to let his son know that yes, Dick had made it there in one piece. At least it was somewhat easy to talk to his son about this. At least they were _talking_. Slade knew he’d never win a father of the year award with any of his kids, and he was thankful for just the little things currently.

 

The next round were from Rose, seemingly far less calm.

 

_Tell me Joey didn’t want to know where you are because Dick is going to see you._

 

_It’s been two hours text me back or pick up your fucking phone._

 

_It’s four AM and he’s there isn’t he? Gross. Remind him we’re still not talking._

 

He shook his head, didn’t respond to the messages. He’d call Rose later. He’d get an earful about how it was _weird_ that he was sleeping with someone barely older than her and Joey. And maybe he didn’t fully disagree, but he couldn’t even bother to care anymore. Not when Dick had him so damn infatuated.

 

The night before was proof. His _apology_ was proof. And his own damn fear of dealing with the fact that this was far more than sex was undying, unyielding truth on the matter. He straightened up, heading over to his nightstand with his charger. He plugged his phone in, as he heard Dick rolling around the bed. When he looked over his boyfriend was staring at him, hair falling into his eyes as he snuggled into a pillow.

 

“Mornin’,” Dick mumbled, and Slade offered him a smile.

 

“Good morning little bird.” He leaned over, kissed Dick’s hair. Dick sighed, lifted his head, caught a quick kiss to his mouth, before Slade leaned back.

 

“Did you sleep well?” Slade nodded, and Dick glanced at his phone on the nightstand. “Joey and Rose?”

 

“Surprise,” Slade said, and Dick laughed. “They talk to me more now that you’re involved.”

 

“Mm, glad I could help there. What time is it?” Slade glanced at his phone again.

 

“After eleven.”

 

Dick nodded, stretched. “When is checkout?”

 

“I have the room for another night,” Slade admitted, and Dick sat up at that, stretching his arms fully over his head. He glanced towards the end of the bed, at the bottle of wine still sitting in it’s bucket on the cart.

 

“Feel like day drinking?” he asked. “Trust me, I have good taste in wine.”

 

“I’m sure it’s too fruity,” Slade said, but he was walking for the cart anyway. He lifted the bottle out of the bucket, used a small towel on the cart to wipe off all the water from where the ice had melted. The bottle was still slightly cool. It took him a moment to find the corkscrew, but he had the bottle open shortly after he did, leaving the cork on the cart and heading back for the bed. He sat down, held the bottle out to Dick, who smiled and took it, taking a long drink straight from the bottle.

 

“I pictured this a little more romantic,” Dick admitted, passing Slade the bottle. “Like, two AM glasses of wine, and you missing me, and we laugh and drink the whole bottle and then you fuck me into the mattress.”

 

Slade paused, the bottle almost to his lips. Dick wasn’t looking at him now, was staring at the ceiling, like he was embarrassed over admitting it. Which, considering how Slade had greeted him, he figured wasn’t too far off. He settled his mouth to the bottle, took a sip- and as he expected, it was very sweet. But he didn’t _hate_ it.

 

“It’s not bad,” he said, looking at the bottle. He held it back to Dick. “And that would have been a good night. Maybe you can give me another chance, and we can make it happen.”

 

Dick took a drink, licked the wetness from his lips. “Mmm, I think I can do that.” He took another drink, before he held the bottle out. Slade took it, before he set it aside, on the nightstand. When he turned back he reached for Dick, cupped his face in both his hands and guided him in, kissed his mouth shockingly gently.

 

Dick sighed, reached up to lightly grip at Slade’s forearms as the man kissed him again, teasing his tongue along his lips. Dick opened his mouth, sucked at Slade’s tongue when it pushed it, shivering and gripping his arms tighter. “You know,” Slade mumbled, against his mouth, “it tastes better on you.”

 

Dick whined, sliding closer. He crawled up onto his knees, got his hands in Slade’s free hair and tugged, pulled him back in for a far less subtle kiss. Slade let him have the control, reached out with one hand and slipped it right between his dark thighs. He rubbed between his legs, sliding over cotton and the heat of Dick’s pussy, and Dick shuddered, nipped at Slade’s lip.

 

“Not fair,” he panted, as Slade kept his touch light, continued to tease. Dick squirmed.

 

“I owe you for last night,” Slade offered, applying a little more pressure, making Dick whine again.

 

“That’s not… how this works…” Dick shivered, bit his lip and tipped his head back. Slade knew his touch was frustrating, how Dick wasn’t getting friction where he needed it- but he was a joy to work up, and Slade lived for the flush his cheeks got, his chest, as he was aroused. Dick shivered again, before he reached out, got his hands on Slade’s chest and pushed him down. Slade flopped to the bed, staring up a Dick grasped his tshirt, ripped it off over his head and chucked it away. As he suspected, the flush was traveling down his neck, hitting his chest. It didn’t reach his scars, but it would get close. “I have an idea,” Dick said, and Slade quirked his brow.

 

Dick’s ideas in bed never disappointed.

 

Without a word, Dick dropped down to his butt, leaned back onto the small of his back and grasped his briefs. He guided them off his legs, left them on the bed, before he was crawling over to Slade.

 

He swung a leg over his chest, facing _away_ from him, settling just over his chest and belly. One arm braced on the bed, Dick rubbed his hand along Slade’s crotch, freeing his cock from his pajamas. Slade groaned, as Dick leaned in close, lapped his tongue along the head.

 

He reached up, grasped Dick’s ass, squeezed as he leaned up, dragged his tongue along his lips. Dick shuddered, and Slade did it again, before helping Dick lift his hips, so he could get at his clit better. Dick groaned, his chest and upper belly resting on Slade. He could just feel the tickle of his chest hair, the line of it that trailed down into his pants, and Dick was grinding against it, trying to get every sensation possible as Slade sucked at his clit.

 

Slade kneaded Dick’s ass, felt his mouth and chin growing wet. Dick kept wriggling around, making Slade _chase him_ , and when he sucked his cock into his mouth, began bobbing his head, it was hard to focus. Slade squeezed his eye shut, groaned as he rolled his tongue over Dick’s engorged clit, long, slow flicks making his boyfriend whine.

 

Dick’s rhythm was off, but _god_ it didn’t matter. His mouth was warm, wet, and Slade was pushing up into it, feeling too damn good already. He dragged his tongue past Dick’s clit, down along his lips, before pushing it into him. Dick pulled off, tossed his head and gasped, as Slade nearly came in that very moment from how good he tasted.

 

He growled again, mouthing his way back to Dick’s clit, getting his lips around it and flicking his tongue faster, how he knew Dick liked it. Dick moaned, head moving quicker, his thighs and ass trembling in Slade’s hands. Slade squeezed, sucked at Dick’s clit again before moving his tongue, and then Dick was coming, shaking all over. He swallowed Slade’s cock, whining around it, and Slade pushed up, came over Dick’s tongue over the flood of wetness finding his mouth.

 

Dick pulled off, choking on air as he tried to swallow. Slade moved to long laps of his tongue along Dick’s pussy, pausing to tease his tongue into him again, gathering up his cum. Dick whimpered, keening as he pushed back against his mouth.

 

“Not fair,” he breathed, bowing his head and pressing his forehead to Slade’s thigh. “You can’t just- make me come again.”

 

“Oh?” Slade growled, pulling Dick’s body closer, letting his head drop back and guiding him down, so Dick was laying on him, his pussy pushed right against his mouth. Dick squirmed, grinding into Slade’s mouth- and it was a challenge, as far as Slade was concerned. One he could rise to.

 

He’d get Dick off another time or two, curl up with him and the wine, spend the whole damn day in the hotel room. And he’d make up for his behavior, the night before. Because if there was one thing he didn’t want to lose, it was Dick Grayson.

 

Boundaries be damned, he just had to admit to himself that he wanted his little bird by his side always.

 


End file.
